


Fire and Ice

by DevilMadeMeDoIt



Series: Fire and Ice 'verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 24/7 D/s Lifestyle, Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Human, BDSM, Caning, Cock Bondage, Double Penetration, Edgeplay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Face-Fucking, Forgiveness, Ice Play, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Punishment, Rope Bondage, Sex Toys, Sub!Sam, Temperature Play, caring doms, dominant!Lucifer, lawyer!Sam, professor!Lucifer, unintentional neglect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/985787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilMadeMeDoIt/pseuds/DevilMadeMeDoIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To the outside world, Sam and Lucifer are just another successful, attractive yuppie couple, but within the walls of their Connecticut mansion, society slips away and they live a life of 24/7 Dominance and submission. </p><p>When work begins to affect their happy dynamic, Sam feels taken for granted. Will Lucifer realize what is wrong before it's too late? Can trust be re-established?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Sam had come home from work at precisely five o’clock, as he had every day since taking the position at the tiny coastal town of Old Saybrook's local law office three years ago. The only difference was that today he nearly stomped through the doorway, irritated, mother of all frowns pulling down the corners of his mouth. He toed off his shoes; leaving them haphazardly rebelling against the perfectly, obsessively aligned pair of polished, black tasseled oxfords on the mat that let him know Lucifer was home, likely upstairs behind his desk, black framed reading glasses perched on the end of his nose buried in a dissertation, just like every other day for the past month that didn't include late advising appointments with his grad students or faculty meetings that turned into cocktails and esoteric discussion about theology.

 

On most days Sam could slip easily and immediately into the headspace that allowed him to switch from the charmingly successful, aggressive lawyer persona that the outside world knew into who he was meant to be within the walls of their stately three-story Connecticut mansion. Here he _belonged_ , heart, body, mind and soul to Lucifer, his Master’s beloved, submissive pet. Typically, he would arrive home, change out of his sharply tailored suit and into the loose, white linen pants laid out each morning on their carefully made bed before Lucifer would press a kiss to his hair and send him on his way to work, (except lately it was instead a distracted brush of dry lips to his cheek as the man strode through the kitchen to grab his thermos of specially brewed coffee and out the door with an absentminded wave) and begin to prepare dinner. Even with his own hectic work life, Sam still came into _their_ space prepared to be whatever Lucifer needed, whatever he wanted. But over the last few weeks he had felt increasingly... _off, uneasy, wrong_ ; needy and tight in his skin in a way that he hadn’t felt for a very long time. Today though…that feeling of unease had peaked, and he had been out of character enough at the office for his partner to comment that he needed to get laid when he’d nearly bitten their secretary's head off for no reason.

 

He’d shrugged his navy suit jacket from broad, tense shoulders and laid it over the back of the couch, glancing at his watch as he did. He really should have been getting ready to make dinner; Lucifer would come down from his study at 6:30 on the dot. Today had been a school day, and Sam knew that he would appreciate a good, quiet meal after a long afternoon of grading papers. Last night Sam had set two steaks in the refrigerator to marinade for their meal this evening, but neither the steaks, nor the baked potatoes and vegetable medley he had planned to make would have taken the entire hour and a half to cook. Hell, he'd snorted, he could probably cook the whole damn thing in the microwave and Lucifer wouldn't even notice. Maybe a quick power nap would refresh him, ground him. He had flopped gracelessly into the deep cushioned embrace of the tufted leather and set an alarm on his phone for 5:30, brain insisting that he would have plenty of time despite the fluttering in his stomach, and let his head fall back against the backrest. He had thought that he would wake up, make dinner just like always, and everything would go back to normal. 

 

Instead of his alarm, he woke to the soft clink of silverware against ceramic and a darkened living room. With a feeling akin to panic he surged up off of the couch, eyes adjusting to the light spilling from the open kitchen and felt his stomach sink at the sight of Lucifer leaning against the kitchen counters, pale blue gaze on Sam as he lifted a spoonful of what looked like cereal to his lips, one blond eyebrow raised on an otherwise expressionless face. 

 

Sam swallowed around the whimper creeping up the back of his throat and sank to his knees where he stood. He hung his head as he knelt, heart racing at the sound of Lucifer eating that seemed to stretch on for ages. His body stiffened with tension when he heard the faucet, and his Master’s spoon and bowl set with care in the sink but remained in position, hands clasped on the opposing wrists behind his back, eyes averted until he saw the toes of Lucifer’s red and black argyle socks as he crossed the plush Berber carpet to stand before him. He squeezed his eyes shut and flinched when a gentle hand slid through his hair to cup the back of his head and he raised his eyes slowly as his face was tilted up, trailing over snug fitting wool slacks, the soft maroon sweater vest, the collar of a crisp white button down and black patterned tie peeking over the V neck of the vest and finally, the fine black corduroy sport coat, complete with _very_ charming leather patches at both elbows. He looked every inch the Religious Studies professor, Ph.D and Department Head that he was, and Sam was sure that no professor _he'd_ ever had looked quite so devilishly handsome (though the mere idea of the man striding confidently before a lecture hall packed with rapt students, wearing authority like a custom-tailored suit made Sam fantasize _frequently_ about being a student in one of his classes.) His skin tingled with the desire to rub himself bare over each exquisitely tactile piece of Lucifer's clothes, feel the deliciously scratchy texture of wool between his thighs, to feel his fingernails scrape against the fine variegation of corduroy clad shoulders, the creamy brush of cashmere against his chest and cock, but he simply clenched his hands into fists as his gaze finally locked with his Master's. 

 

That single eyebrow was still arched in a silent question and Sam felt his face flush hot with shame and a nagging sense of _wrong_ as he dropped his eyes again. Even with his layers of clothes, he still ached at the loss of Lucifer's body heat when the man moved away and a frustrated whine slipped out of his mouth. Lucifer didn't turn back to him, but he could hear the amused, wry smirk in his low, chuckling laugh as he busied himself in the kitchen once more. Sam was curious, but he kept his eyes down, ears ringing with the silence, the lack of command, and curiosity slowly gave way to anger. 

 

It was going to be like this then, he thought. Lucifer would finish doing whatever he was ignoring Sam to do, and then they'd go upstairs where he'd be perfunctorily undressed, kissed, and made love to before his Master would roll over and fall immediately asleep, leaving Sam to lie awake trembling with the need for something _more._

 

They hadn't been to the playroom for weeks and he craved the touch of leather stinging against his skin, of rope and metal digging into muscle and sinew. He needed Lucifer, that icy stare snapping with heat and pride as he broke Sam apart into atoms only to piece him back together with words and caresses. He _needed_. Needed to feel hands wrapped possessively around him, needed to feel like he _belonged_ , like he was more than an _obligation_ , more than.... 

 

Fuck that. An angry sob broke free from his lips as he stood, pins and needles shooting through his legs as he walked jerkily to the stairs. 

 

“Sam.” 

 

He froze with one foot on the bottom stair, hand on the banister. He waited but did not move to look back. When nothing more came, he continued his path, socked feet quiet on carpet, to the playroom. If Lucifer didn't follow...well then, he would sleep alone and relieve his Master of his _duty_ for the evening.

 

The 'playroom' was actually the entire uppermost floor of the home they shared and had been remodeled for their purposes. Where the gorgeous Colonial mansion had once boasted a third floor with several bedrooms and a large private bathroom, it now contained one single, vast room. Most of the room was devoted to pleasure, to pain, to discipline. Walls were lined with a wide variety of whips, crops, floggers, an entire section of wall from crown molding to baseboard was entirely filled with lengths of different types of rope on padded hooks. Elegant walnut Curio's displayed a collection of toys in all shapes, sizes and purpose. Leather benches and tables, a vaulting horse, suspension equipment, chairs, and even a cage were spaced evenly across the left side of the room, each custom made piece surrounded by thick steel eyelets sunk into the floor, walls and ceiling. Nearly every scenario Sam could dream about doing was possible here, and in the four years since they had bought the home, they hadn't even come _close_ to trying everything _._

 

In the right corner of the room, the luxurious jacuzzi bath still stood, next to it a simple stall shower with clear glass walls, both of which Sam was intimately familiar. Along the same side on a raised platform was a king sized bed, dressed in sumptuous red and black satin, as well as a small, thin pallet with nothing more than a pillow laid at the head on the floor beside it. Sam shivered to recall the nights he had been ordered to sleep on the pallet, naked and uncomfortable as he was punished. He treasured those nights when he had been good enough, pleased his Master enough to curl up beside him in the bed, or stretched out over the sheets at Lucifer's sweet mercy.

 

He sighed and pulled the socks from his feet, dropping them in the corner as he crossed over the slick hardwood floor to the bed. Tonight the sheets were cold, lonely as he hunched around a pillow and the scent of Lucifer's expensive aftershave; winter skies, pomegranates and fragrant birch, soothed him as bitter tears slipped down his cheeks to stain the silky pillowcase.

 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

How long he laid there, quietly spilling himself into the pillow, he didn't know, but at some point after the last tear had dried and a hollowness took up residence in his chest, he heard the stairs creaking beneath Lucifer's weight as he climbed. Tension rode Sam's shoulders tight, his breath shallow, as he listened for some sign of what was to come. He had disobeyed, broken their careful routine, and ignored his Master when he had been called for. He hadn't expected Lucifer to come after him, expected to pass the night in a bed that cried out to be warmed by the heat of two bodies coming together in passion, in love, alone and aching. Was it to be punishment, for what he had done? His heart raced at the thought, twisted as it was, for at least then he might feel something other than the ghost of his Master in a striking hand.

 

He felt the bed dip behind him as Lucifer sat on the edge. Sam trembled when a wide palm came to rest on his hip, but he fought the urge to turn, to wrap around that familiar body and beg to be allowed to take whatever he was given.

 

“Sam...” There was a touch of regret, a touch of sadness in the way Lucifer said his name. “Please, pet. Look at me.” He gave in to the soft plea, foreign sounding from that proud mouth and turned his head on the pillow to look up at Lucifer's face. The strong, pale brow was furrowed and Sam sat, sliding off of the bed to his knees. He knelt before his Master, pressing his body between the vee of his thighs until their faces were inches apart. He looked into those eyes as he brought one hand up to stroke fingertips over his brow, willing it to smooth as he begged silently for a kiss. His breath shuddered out of him as he leaned closer and closer, never breaking his gaze. When his tongue swiped lightening quick over his lips, Lucifer's eyes flicked to his mouth, pupils dilating when they parted to whisper, “Luce...Master, _please_.”

 

Both of Lucifer's hands slid into his hair and pulled him in hard, crashing their mouths together in a fevered kiss. Sam's hands fisted into the coverlet and Lucifer ate the pained whimper from his lips, his blood singing out a Hallelujah chorus of _yesyesyesohthankgodyes_. Pleas for forgiveness were traded between breaths, absolution was found in tongues licking, hurts acknowledged in the nip of teeth, trust reestablished with a tongue soothing the bitter sting.

 

Reluctantly, Sam pulled away from Lucifer's mouth with a sigh and sat back on his heels, wrapping his arms around his Master's waist, burrowing his face against his chest, wiping tears he hadn't realized he'd cried on the softness of his sweater. Answering arms slid tight around his shoulders, anchoring him against Lucifer's body. “Master...please...I _need_.” Hands stroked down his back as Lucifer rested his cheek on his hair and whispered. “Shhh, pet. I know what you need.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first things first, I owe MAJOR thanks to each and every one of you who have supported me or otherwise provided cheerleading services while I struggled to write this piece. I never realized how much of myself I truly wove into this story, and was taken by surprise at how emotionally exhausted the first part left me.
> 
> I hope the wait was worth it <3

 

 

After several long, sweet minutes in which Master and pet shared kisses and quiet words, Lucifer led him over to one of the sturdy, leather-topped, padded tables and bound him with the careful, patient skill that Sam had always admired, slowly, enjoying the way each loop and knot looked against his willing captive's flushed skin.

 

His eyes, those eyes that burned with the blinding pale light of a magnesium flash flicked to Sam's frequently, a non-verbal check in. The attention, his focus on Sam and Sam alone, was almost more than he could take, and as Lucifer's fingers caressed him, grounding him and reassuring him with each gentle touch, he trembled, fighting tears of relief. Lucifer's eyes pinned him and his breath caught in his throat. Fingers carded through his hair and soft, unintelligible words were murmured into his temple, doing nothing to settle his body.

 

When his Master finished, he stepped back to look critically at his work. Sam was tied with his arms behind his back, long spirals of rope held him wrist to forearm from one side to the other, his legs were bound thigh to ankle, raised and pushed far back until they pressed against his sides, clever loops slipped under the crook of his knees, around his biceps, and running in an intricate, overlapping X pattern across and down his chest, leaving as much of him bare as possible.

 

Sam held his position as well as he could, trying to resist the urge to struggle just because, stifling a whimpering moan when Lucifer wrapped cool, dry fingers loosely around his cock, thumbnail teasing along the thick vein on the underside as he stroked maddeningly slowly, lips beginning to curl into that smirk that told Sam his Master was back. _Finally_ , Sam breathed to himself.

 

Lucifer released him after a few minutes and walked over to the array of ropes still on the wall, perusing the offerings while casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt neatly to his elbows, revealing finely muscled forearms dusted with light golden hair. Sam couldn't hold back the whimper that burst from him when his Master selected a familiar loop of slim black cord.

 

The last time they had played with that particular rope, Sam had literally passed out from the delirious rush of finally being allowed to come after his Master had brought him to the edge of orgasm over and over and over again, the rope wound tight around his cock the only thing holding him back.

 

Back at the table, Lucifer stood staring down at him with eyes gone hot and dark, trailing the rope over his inner thighs, making him shiver, skin tingling in the wake of the touch.

 

“Do you want it, pet?” Lucifer's voice was smooth, almost lazy sounding, and Sam knew that he was in his own headspace, riding high already on the heady control that his pet offered up so willingly. His head rushed with the knowledge, the pure bliss of knowing that _his_ submission was the only thing that brought this out in Lucifer. He nodded, brain hazy with want, then yelped when a hand came down hard where his hole was exposed. 

“Have you forgotten yourself already, pet?” His Master chided and Sam felt his heart race. 

 

“N-no, Master. Forgive me, please.” Fingers stroked over his stinging flesh and he bit his lower lip to muffle his moans. Lucifer pressed a thick finger against his entrance as he watched Sam's face, a smile curving his mouth.

 

“Let's try that again, shall we? Do you want it?” The question was practically rhetorical, Lucifer would do it whether or not Sam wanted it, if he thought Sam needed it.

 

They had safewords, of course, and they would be respected immediately if invoked, but his Master knew his body and his limits better than anyone, and if Sam needed pushing, then he would push. But one of the first rules Sam had ever learned when he and Lucifer started this all those years ago, was that unless he had been ordered to be silent, every question asked during a scene must be answered, and answered honestly, even if he were gagged.

 

He swallowed, “Yes, Master, please. I want it.” The smile widened, pleased, and the stroking fingers pulled away to take up the rope once more.

 

Lucifer quickly and deftly bound Sam's already leaking cock, tightly around the base and up the throbbing shaft in a pattern that mimicked the chest harness. A double loop wound snugly beneath the crown and the remaining length was secured to the lowest part of the harness in the middle, pulling his cock tight against his stomach until it stood out like a flushed exclamation point.

 

He panted, chest heaving with the near over-stimulation of the ropes pressed firmly into sensitive, pulsing flesh and Lucifer swiped a thumb across the wet red tip, his muscles jerking with the urge to thrust up into the touch.

 

Lucifer pulled back, sucking the slick smear off of his skin as he moved around the table to run a hand through Sam's hair, fingers fisting in the long chestnut waves before leaning down to claim his mouth, so hard and hungry his jaws were aching with it long before it was over. His Master ate the desperate noises from his lips, making his toes curl up when his tongue was suckled and bottom lip bitten. Lucifer broke the kiss and crouched behind him, nuzzling his face against Sam's cheek. “So beautiful, pet. So perfect, and all mine.”

 

Sam shivered at the heated whisper, low and silky smooth as it dragged across his senses. So long. It had been  _so long_ . His eyes prickled with tears and the breath he let out shook. “ _Yours._ ”

 

 

*-*-*-*-*-*

 

That had been nearly twenty minutes ago. Lucifer had pressed a kiss to his temple and straightened, taking his time walking over to the doorway before looking back over his shoulder, his gaze promising that his pet would be thoroughly taken care of upon his return.

 

Sam was twitching anxiously; the air of the playroom was cool against his heated skin, the leather of the raised table he was bound to slick where sweat had pooled beneath his shoulders and hips. He had no idea what was going to happen, and it made the anticipation burn just that much sweeter, hotter.

 

The silence and stretch of minutes long past counting eventually had Sam attempting to relax his tense muscles as much as he could cradled in ropes.

 

He could only guess what his Master had planned for him, but he knew that before the night was through he would be tied in tighter knots than the ones wrapped around him, and the last thing he wanted to have to do was safeword out because his muscles had cramped. The first and last time he had soldiered on through a scene with a charlie horse in his calf had left him limping for almost a week afterward, more a result of the sound caning he'd received for not telling Lucifer he was in pain than the cramp that had left him twitching and groaning.

 

As scarily intuitive as Lucifer could be, not five minutes after he had forced himself into a quasi-meditative state, he felt the air around him shift unnaturally. He cracked an eye open and found a smirking Lucifer standing to his left side, collar undone and tie gone, silently arranging items on a polished silver cocktail tray laid on top of a rolling table.

 

Sam craned his neck to try to see what was on the tray and whined in frustration when he couldn't. Lucifer made a mockingly sympathetic noise, but the look on his face was far too pleased to make it work. Sam scowled and let his head flop back onto the padded leather with a huff.

 

His Master chuckled darkly and Sam knew his attitude hadn't gone unnoticed. He tensed, expecting a sharp swat as punishment, but when none came, a shard of icy anticipation burned through him, making his bound cock twitch against his stomach.

 

A metallic sound had him turning in Lucifer's direction again, and this time he saw the polished silver ice bucket, part of the cocktail set that Castiel had given them as a wedding gift and lived in Lucifer's study. Seemingly satisfied with whatever he had put inside the bucket, his Master secured the lid and hummed contemplatively before choosing a small, red glass bottle with a tiny jet crystal mounted on the black rubber stopper.

 

Turning back to Sam, Lucifer rolled the bottle between his palms and regarded his pet with such a hungry, _heated_ look in those winter-sky eyes that it pulled a low whimper from Sam. The stopper was tugged with a pop from the neck of the bottle, and he watched as Lucifer tipped it over his other hand, spilling the clear oil into the shallow bowl of his palm before setting the bottle down next to Sam's hip. 

 

He gasped when slick fingers circled a nipple, teasing and pinching until it was pebbled hard from the attention. It wasn't until Lucifer had moved on to his other already aching nipple did he feel a hot tingling sensation in the tightened bud, and moaned softly. Sam remembered this oil. It was specially made, the capsaicin content of the unique formula gave the oil quite a bit more of a punch than your typical warming lube.

 

His Master worked his nipples mercilessly, twisting and tugging as the warm oil sent sparks of heat straight to his dripping, neglected cock. His spine bowed, arching him up off of the table, trying to press into Lucifer's hands and he cried out when a nail rasped across his tender flesh.

 

He collapsed back when the fingers left his chest, breathing hard through the dull throb of pain setting his nipples on fire. Sam bit his bottom lip when his Master rounded the end of the table to stand between his spread open thighs. His eyes rolled back into his head when he felt the hot push of Lucifer's erection trapped behind his slacks and sobbed out a whimper. He was already on the verge of begging, and they had barely begun.

 

Lucifer slid his hands up Sam's inner thighs, thumbs teasing in the hollows, and bent over him, their bodies pressed tight together as cool lips nipped at the corners of his mouth, the sharp edge of his jaw, the rich feel of Lucifer's sweater brushing teasingly over his cock.

 

Tiny kisses and bites trailed down his throat, his chest around the ropes, down, down,  _down_ until there was hot breath against the wet crown of his cock and his legs trembled with the urge to squirm, to rock up against that mouth. Sam whined when Lucifer's silver tongue traced the silken cords binding his length, never touching his cock directly, making him moan and writhe, desperate for anything his Master would give him. 

 

Had it not been for the firm pressure of the rope snug behind his balls, wrapped tight around the base of his cock, he would have come the second Lucifer's thick fingers circled slick and warm around his twitching entrance. He bit back a shout as he was worked open slowly, precisely, the almost-too-much tingling sensation he'd felt in his nipples was intensified with each stroke of Lucifer's fingertips over his prostate.

 

He gave into the need to beg, wordlessly, for it to stop, for it to _never_ stop. He wanted his Master inside him so badly, filling him, taking him the way only he could.

 

“Patience, pet.” Lucifer murmured, lips pressed against the bend of his knee and he knew he'd spoken his last thoughts aloud. “You are doing so well, my love. So good for me, always so good for me.” The fingers worked and worked at him, two, three, stretching him, loosening him, making his entire world focus on nothing but those fingers.

 

His skin was flushed, chest heaving with breathy moans, and he groaned when Lucifer slipped his fingers free. Sam watched as Lucifer returned to the tray, reaching for a hand towel. With clean hands he gripped the sides of the little table, his head bowed over it as his Master grounded himself. Sweat left his pale blonde hair dark against his forehead, and the thick line of his cock strained against the tight black wool of his slacks. He was so incredibly beautiful like this, and Sam had never wanted him so much as he did in that moment.

 

Eyes he hadn't realized had closed flew open with a gasp as icy cool fingers slid against his scalp, smoothing sweat soaked hair off of his forehead. Lucifer's mouth brushed over his throat, cold and wet as he sucked at Sam's Adam's apple. The hand not in his hair traced his still tender nipples with the hard, melting edge of an ice cube, making them tighten painfully with the sensation. Water dripped in small rivulets down over his ribs, tickling and soothing at the same time. The ice cube circled his other nipple and was then dragged, chilling and slow down his sternum before it was left to melt in his navel.

 

The sharp difference in temperature was startling, and he shuddered as a slick cube passed over his testicles, making them pull close to his body. His Master's eyes staring down at him from between his thighs burned like the ice, and his muscles strained with the fight to keep still, the slow melting cube trailing down over his perineum. Sam cried out, eyes widening when the ice was pushed inside of him, cold fingers sliding it deep within him, jolting his every muscle taut as it nudged his prostate.

 

Lucifer pulled his fingers from him and reached for the hem of his vest, tugging it over his head. With an air of collected calm Sam was certain that he would never be able to feel if their positions were reversed, his Master unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it from the creamy pale expanse of his shoulders. His eyes watched Sam on the table, twitching and hips wriggling as the ice melted inside of him, water trickling out of his stretched hole and down over his ass, as he folded the shirt and sweater, setting them carefully aside.

 

The man cut an impressive figure, standing there, bare chest glistening, dark blond hair trailing down from his navel to disappear beneath the waistband of his black slacks. Sam wanted to run his tongue down that line, kneel at Lucifer's feet and beg him to slide that thick, heavy cock into his mouth and fuck him until he exploded down his throat.

 

Sam flushed when he finally raised his eyes from his Master's groin to his face and found that smirk in place, one eyebrow arched gracefully. The smirk dropped after a minute and Sam's pulse thundered. That look spelled punishment, pain at the capable, firm hands of the man he had vowed to trust with his life.

 

From its hiding place against the lip of the tray, Lucifer lifted one of Sam's most hated toys. The thin rattan switches of the birching cane left his skin striped with raised welts and stinging, especially when they had been soaked in water beforehand. The twin sensations of the air-chilled rods and the burning sting never failed to make him fall apart when his Master used the thing to take him to task for his misbehavior.

 

Lucifer's eyes were solemn as he took his place at the end of the table once more. Sam bit at his lips to hold back desperate pleas for mercy. He knew, though, that while his actions had been impulsive and born from a place of frustrated despair, he still owed his Master the price of what he'd done. Lucifer's features were drawn, neither of them enjoyed it when Sam required punishment, but neither could it be ignored or pushed aside. Sam had committed himself to their unique relationship dynamic, to the guidance and place his trust in his Master's hands, and reminders of his chosen place were occasionally needed. It was painful, of course, but often brought them closer together.

 

The cane was laid carefully on his stomach, the leather wrapped handle brushing against the side of his cock every time he moved. Lucifer's hands stroked up his shins and squeezed at his knees and his tongue appeared to wet his lips before he spoke.

 

“Sam, pet. I wish, God do I wish, that it had not needed to come to this point for me to realize how truly neglected you were feeling. You must know that it was never, _ever_ , my intention to make you feel as if you were not the most important part of my life.” Lucifer's eyes shone, and Sam felt his Master's barely reined in emotions as if they were his own. Lucifer sighed heavily. “This evening you broke routine, failed to prepare our evening meal and yourself, walked away from your Master in anger and without permission, and refused to acknowledge or respond when you were called for.” Sam trembled as his crimes were laid out before him, but Lucifer's hands on him kept him, loved him despite what he had done. “Those actions were yours, but I cannot in good conscience place all of the blame upon you, my love. Your punishment, at my hands, will serve to bring us _both_ in check. You are not the only one who needs reminding of his place. I have taken you for granted, and I humbly beg your forgiveness.”

 

His Master's hand cupped his cheek as tears fell and his breaths came in gasps. “ _Thank you._ Thank you, Master. Your pet, your beloved, your devoted husband...I am so sorry. So sor-” His words were cut off when Lucifer's mouth took his in a blistering kiss, leaving him sobbing as he was stroked tenderly.

 

He calmed in degrees, feeling layers of hurt sliding off of him like discarded clothing. He settled in Lucifer's arms and took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come. His Master pressed a last kiss to his forehead and straightened, looking down at Sam expectantly. He attempted to firm up his quivering lips and nodded, signaling his acceptance of his punishment as well as his Master's apology.

 

Lucifer took the cane in hand, teasing the rounded tips of the rods against his cock, and Sam groaned as it hardened from where it had wilted during their emotional moment.

 

“I believe ten lashes to each side should be sufficient punishment.” His Master's voice was slipping back into that low, hypnotizing purr, and Sam shivered as the rods were trailed from knee to the left cheek of his ass and back.

 

Twenty lashes in all. He could take them, he could. It had been quite a long time since Sam had been punished for anything, a fact that he was rightfully proud of.

 

In their years together, he and Lucifer had been to a number of fetish clubs, and Sam always wondered about the couples he had seen where the dominant partner seemed to enjoy having a submissive who was constantly challenging his or her orders. One of his Master's lifestyle friends, who went by the name of Mistress Abbadon, her submissive Ruby was a certified Brat.

 

Sam knew that there were endless types and combinations of people involved in BDSM, it was part of what made the lifestyle so interesting in its complexity, but all he had ever wanted to do was please his Master. He never felt a need to act out on purpose in order to get “punishment,” Lucifer had provided for his needs so well. He supposed it was a testament to how out of sorts he had been that he had unconsciously resorted to misbehavior to have his needs met.

 

The first swat was sharp and sudden, pulling him out of his own head and brought his focus to his Master's face. He felt his mood lighten when he saw Lucifer trying not to smirk around his serious frown. Sam smiled crookedly and released the breath he had been holding onto, allowing his body to relax, his thighs spreading just that much farther apart as the tension bled out of him.

 

Lucifer's gaze heated at the small display and Sam fought the urge to preen. He was being punished, now was not the moment to gloat at the power he held over his Master.

 

The next lash struck the opposite thigh, lower, right in the crease where thigh met cheek, and Sam knew he'd given himself away at the sight of Lucifer's raised eyebrows. He flushed and lowered his eyes demurely, struggling to keep himself loose-limbed. While punishment could feel good occasionally, the strike of wood or leather against skin was always made worse when one was tense and bracing for it.

 

His Master chuckled, low and wicked and tapped the cane back and forth between his inner thighs. “Hmm...Let's start with five each, shall we? It's been some time since I've had to put you through your paces, hasn't it, pet?”

 

Sam nodded, not entirely sure he was glad that his punishment would be meted out in parts instead of all at once, and Lucifer went to work.

 

Mere minutes later Sam was fighting a scream as the last stroke crackled over his skin, his thighs and ass striped crimson and stinging. His Master dropped the cane to the table and ran his hands over Sam's shoulders and down his chest, shushing him and praising him for doing well until his breathing evened out once more.

 

Sam was floating, high on the endorphins rushing through his blood, and missed the clink and clatter of the ice bucket before it was too late.

 

His scream broke free as something thick, hard and inhumanly cold slid inside him. He looked, wide-eyed with panic down his body to see Lucifer gripping the end of what looked like a huge glass dildo, but the cold water already dripping from his hole to pool on the leather told Sam that the thing was made of ice.

 

He shivered at the way the burn in his ass was so distinctly different from the fire in his thighs, but no less intense and without thinking clenched around it and pushed, trying to expel the large, frozen intruder. His Master retaliated by thrusting the thing back inside, angling it to hit his prostate until he was screaming for an entirely different reason.

 

Lucifer fucked him hard with the dildo, lips and fingers stroking over the raised welts on his thighs barely distracting him from the sensation of being filled with something so cold. Water gushed out of him each time the dildo was shoved inside, and Sam could feel the girth of the thing growing less and less by the minute as the heat of his own body melted the ice.

 

He whimpered gratefully when the ice was pulled free and dropped with a clatter back into the bucket. Lucifer gave him no time to adjust before the cane struck again, and again, criss-crossing over the marks that had only begun to fade a little, reigniting the flames that licked his skin.

 

His Master was growling by the time the twentieth lash was given, and his chest was heaving. Lucifer threw the cane to the floor, stalking around the table and wrenching his belt open to tear at the button and zipper of his slacks. Sam's mouth watered when the slacks were shoved down and his Master's cock bobbed insistently just within his field of vision.

 

Lucifer wrapped one hand around his cock and the other around the middle of Sam's harness and hauled him backward over the table until his head hung off the end, wasting no time in thrusting the head of his cock between Sam's lips.

 

Sam needed no instruction, and sucked at the hard flesh pressed heavy against his tongue. Lucifer groaned and fisted both of his hands in Sam's hair, holding him steady as he fed more and more of his cock into his mouth, the head nudging at his throat. Sam moaned around him and relaxed his throat, wanting to feel his Master fuck his mouth the way he'd fucked his ass with the ice. He begged and whimpered with his mouth full of cock as Lucifer held steady, eyes squeezed shut, fingers scraping tight against Sam's scalp.

 

And then he rocked his hips, sliding his cock into Sam's throat until his nose was pressed against his balls, held, held, until Sam was certain he'd pass out from lack of oxygen, finally pulling back with a strained groan. Sam hurriedly sucked in air as soon as he was able, one or two ragged breaths and then Lucifer began thrusting himself hard and fast, saliva flowing freely from the corners of Sam's stretched lips.

 

All too quickly it was over and Sam mewled embarrassingly when Lucifer pulled his cock free, but left it a bare inch in front of Sam's face, red and twitching and dripping temptingly. His Master was bent over, breathing hard, hands clenched around the edge of the table as he fought to bring himself under control. Sam stretched his tongue out impetuously and lapped at the leaking tip of Lucifer's cock, moaning at the taste of him before his Master's hand cracked down on his ass for taking the liberty. The pain of the spank only pushed him higher, and he found he could not keep the wide, drunken grin off of his face.

 

Lucifer huffed a laugh from above him and pulled Sam's head up by his hair to kiss him sloppily until Sam was moaning into his Master's mouth.

 

“I'm going to fuck you now, pet.” Lucifer growled against his lips and Sam groaned hard, cock aching from the sound alone.

 

His Master dumped the rest of the bottle of oil into his hand and stroked himself slick, head thrown back as he moved into place, leaving Sam breathless for a moment at the sight before he shoved home. Sam's eyes rolled back into his head. Lucifer burned hot within his body, hips slamming against his ass as he pounded deeper and harder with each thrust.

 

Sam was mindless with the pleasure filling him again and again, and could not have predicted the moment when Lucifer replaced his cock with the half-melted dildo. He screamed soundlessly when on the next thrust it was his Master's cock. Lucifer fucked him into a puddle of writhing, begging need as he alternated the two, the rapid switches between burning heat and aching cold coiling tight in his belly.

 

“-take both, pet?” He realized belatedly that Lucifer was talking to him asking something with that infernal smirk on his face.

 

“Wha?” Sam mumbled, his focus scattered as his every cell sang with need.

 

“I asked, love, if you thought you could take both?” The cock inside his ass thrust shallowly, brushing just-so over his prostate. Sam blinked in confusion, but stilled, breath coming faster when the rounded, cool touch of the ice pressed against his rim.

 

“Oh _fuck,_ Luce. Fuck, fuuuuu-” His moan ramped up to a keen as his Master pushed the ice in beside his cock. They both cried out at the feeling of Sam stretching tight around the two, the feeling of hot and cold once again setting his nerves on fire. With a low groan, Lucifer wrapped his hand around the ice and his cock and thrust slowly, feeling the thing melting inside as he was fucked, stuffed so full he thought he could feel it in his stomach.

 

It was too much, all of it, too much. Lucifer shoved in hard and he screamed. “Please let me come Master, please, oh God  _please_!”

 

The ice melted down to nothing and water and oil dripped off the table to splatter on the floor. Lucifer's fingers slid beneath the ropes at his thighs and used them to pull Sam down onto his cock as he fucked the wet, sloppy mess he had made of his ass. His furious pace stuttered and he shouted, fingers nearly frantic as he released the knot tying Sam's cock to his harness and unraveled the cord until it hung limp between them. Lucifer shoved him back onto the table and crawled up after him, crouched over his body as he thrust once, twice more, mouth descending over Sam's.

 

“Come for me, pet. Come now.” He growled and pounded inside as Sam cried out and clenched hard around him, coming harder than he ever remembered coming. Lucifer's hips stilled against him and his cock pulsed hard, filling Sam with the liquid fire of his own release.

His Master collapsed on top of Sam's boneless body, still buried deep within him, both breathing like they had run a marathon. Sam groaned as the ache in his bound arms and legs made itself known and Lucifer climbed off of him reluctantly.

 

As gently and carefully as he had been bound, his Master released him, massaging his arms and legs as they tingled painfully with the return of rushing blood. Sam was fucked out, sated and shaky when Lucifer helped him stand, and half-carried him across the floor to the bed Sam had been prepared to sleep in alone that night.

 

He was settled against the pillows and Lucifer bent to rummage through the small refrigerator next to the bed for a bottle of orange juice and a squat container of Arnica salve. His Master sat him up against his sweaty chest and tipped the juice into his mouth one swallow at a time, pressing kisses into his hair and his neck and shoulders as he drank.

 

When he could drink no more, he was rolled onto his stomach and hands stroked softly over his back. “You did so well, my love. I am so very proud of you.” Sam smiled and snuggled his face against the slight softness of Lucifer's stomach, groaning tiredly when fingers slicked with the thick cream brushed over the marks on his ass and thighs. Small twinges of pain fired through him, adding to the blissful subspace as his Master rubbed the healing cream into his skin.

 

Lucifer cleaned them both efficiently and slid into the bed, pulling Sam's larger, heavier body on top of his, nuzzling his face into his hair with his strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, thumbs stroking in soothing circles.

 

“Is that what you needed, pet?” His Master murmured into his ear.

 

Sam rolled his head on his neck so that he could look up into Lucifer's eyes. The blue eyes were still hazy with satisfaction, but he could see the hint of worry in the pale irises. He snuggled closer, dropping a kiss to Lucifer's throat, mouthing his way up to his lips. His Master grunted, but allowed the kiss for a moment before pulling back. “Answer me, please, love.”

 

Sam's eyes closed, the intensity of Lucifer's gaze burned through him. “Yes, Master. That was exactly what I needed. I'm so sor-” One of Lucifer's fingers pressed against his lips.

 

“The only things you have to apologize about, pet, you have taken your punishment for. It is _I_ who owes apologies still. You should never have to feel like you come in second place to anything. Yes, my work is important, and vital to who I am, but you Sam, you are what makes me whole. I love you with every atom of my being.” He had never heard Lucifer sound so sad, so determined to make Sam believe him.

 

Overcome with emotion, Sam surged forward and took Lucifer's mouth, swallowing the delighted moan of surprise. “ _I love you. I am yours. Forever.”_

 

He repeated the words over and over, whispering them against his Master's lips, down his jaw, until Sam was pressed into his shoulder once more. He fell asleep to the steady, soft rise and fall of Lucifer's chest as he breathed and the feeling of hands on his body.

 

 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Three days later, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, the marks Sam wore with pleased pride were just beginning to fade.

 

Lucifer had been incredibly attentive since that night, and Sam had never felt happier. At breakfast that morning, as Sam knelt beside his Master's chair, he had fought not to grumble when he was informed that Lucifer would be leaving shortly for his office for the afternoon to attend to some paperwork.

 

Sam was in the middle of scrubbing down the kitchen, trying to keep his mind occupied and remind himself that things were different now, when he heard the garage door open with a rumble. He grinned to himself when the kitchen door opened, but didn't look up from his work.

 

“What did you forget, my absentminded professor?” He teased, but yelped in surprise when Lucifer's hands fell on his hips and squeezed. He looked a question over his shoulder. “Luce?”

 

His Master turned him slowly and backed him into the wall, pressing his body against Sam's before leaning in to nuzzle at his jaw when his head fell back with a sigh.

 

“It's the strangest thing. I woke up this morning thinking about all of the important things I had to take care of. I didn't realize that I had left the most important thing here at home.” He kissed Sam, so sweet and soft, and it was all he could do not to melt into a puddle right there on the kitchen floor. “I intend to tell you every day for the rest of our lives, if it is the last thing I ever do.”

 

Lucifer trailed kisses up to his ear and whispered. “ _I love you, pet. I am yours, as you are mine. Forever_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you wanted to know, [this is an example of a birching rod/cane](http://blackrab.brpl.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/wpsc/product_images/MBI018%20Birching%20Rod%20-%20manila.jpg)

**Author's Note:**

> as always, if you are interested in BDSM in any of it's wonderful variations, do your research, be safe (and it never hurts to get references for potential partners. anyone who says no, run away.)
> 
> like it? leave feedback, kudos, smiley faces, whatevs. the more you lovely folks comment, the more stuff i write :D


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